Narrow Legde
by ellesmeranrose
Summary: The loss of a friend can just about kill you. But what if, what if you never really lost your friend? What if they're still out there, in hiding...believed to be dead.


Choking back the furious howl that threatened to escape, Icestorm backed away from the narrow ledge, shielding her mind from memories of the last time a cat went over this cliff. In almost the exact same spot. She waited for the dull echoing thud that would tell her, her friend was gone. Dead. Sucked into the river below, and washed away with the Twoleg rubbish. She waited and waited, but the thud she was expecting never came. Instead she heard a soft thud, like a cat jumping out of a tree onto a rock. Leaning over the edge of the cliff face, Icestorm started to lose her grip. Tottering forward dangerously, she caught a glimpse of her friend, and with a jolt, a far more familiar face. As she started to fall, a strong cat grabbed onto her by the scruff of the neck, and pulled her up. Straining against her weight, he jerked her onto the bare rock, and Icestorm hit her head. Losing consciousness the she-cat managed to meow, "Brightthorn…" before the darkness swept over her.

When Icestorm regained consciousness, the smell of WindClan hung thick in the air. A sandy colored tabby tom was standing over her, his ears, one of which had a long tear in it, pricked for her awaking.

With a startled gasp, Icestar jumped up suddenly, her head spinning at the sudden movement. She blinked rapidly, taking in her surroundings. She was still on the edge of the gorge, but much farther back than she had been.

"Icestorm," The tabby meowed, his voice thick with relief. He didn't wait for her to answer, and jumped immediately to the question that was foremost in his mind. "Icestorm, who is Wildclaw?"

Icestorm's head swam as she searched for the answer. Finally two things clicked and she remembered. "A...friend...of mine." Sure, you could call her a friend. A friend with a nasty little secret…a dead friend. Snapping out of her reverie she turned to the tabby, who seemed puzzled.

"You were muttering about her. While you were unconscious." He said sounding utterly confused as to why anyone would be talking about someone while unconscious. "You said, 'No, Wildclaw…no…don't do this…" He said; his voice a perfect imitation of Icestorm's. This startled her.

The day's events suddenly attacked Icestorm with such ferocity it nearly knocked her off her feet. Sevoila, or Wildclaw as she seemed to be called, making Icestorm let go…forcing her to let her fall to her death…the moment were she seemed to be suspended in air, before falling quickly. The worst part was the déjà-vu. Of so many moons ago, when the same thing happened, only Icestorm couldn't save her friend that time…only stare on in horror as Brightthorn fell, so fast, so young…

_The two cats, one startling white, the other of the deepest black ran through the woods, bursting out through WindClan territory, and coming to a stop before the gorge._

"_Are you sure we won't get caught?" The white cat answered timidly._

"_Yes Icepaw. I'm a Warrior now. I can just say I was showing you around, and we ran too far into WindClan territory. And that's only if we get caught." The black cat said, her voice ringing with confidence._

"_All right…but be careful, Brightp- I mean Brightthorn. That ledge terrifies me." Icepaw answered, scuffing her paws on the ground._

_Brightthorn chuckled, stepping closer to the ledge. She leaned over and looked down into the gorge. "It's no s'far." As she spoke, her paws slipped on a rock, and she tottered forward, paws swinging in the air._

"_Brightthorn!" Icepaw screeched, frozen by fear._

_The cat in mention slipped forward and hung in the air for a slow, agonizing second, before falling freely into the river below._

Icestorm shuddered at the flash back. So many moons ago…since then she'd become a Warrior and Clan Deputy at that. Brightthorn would be proud…the white she-cat fought back a howl of sorrow for her friend. But what she had seen earlier…when she peeked over the edge…that was too peculiar to understand. She _had _seen Brightthorn, of that she was sure. She could recognize the midnight black cat from anywhere.

Icestorm suddenly seemed to remember Tornear who was watching her closely.

"Are you sure? You look a little dazed. What happened?" Tornear questioned.

"Just…just an a-accident…nothing t-to worry about-t." Icestorm stuttered, shaking from tail tip to ears.

"Uh-uh…I'll be seeing you then. At the next Gathering." He didn't seem convinced, but let her go anyway.

As he walked away, Icestorm bounded into ThunderClan territory, and curling up into a ball under a spruce tree, she let the misery have her. The pain was just too real. There are something's that time itself cannot heal.


End file.
